


Paint on my Red Jacket

by ForsakenAngel88, WinterAndLittleBrunettes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art Student Keith (Voltron), First Dates, First Kiss, M/M, Model Lance (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Pining, everyone is suffering through school, instagram model lance, keith needs a model, kind of, so he asks lance obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForsakenAngel88/pseuds/ForsakenAngel88, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterAndLittleBrunettes/pseuds/WinterAndLittleBrunettes
Summary: Keith is an art student in need of a model for his next painting project, and when Lance offers his services, how can he refuse? Being able to stare at his crush for as long as he wants? Sounds like a pretty good day.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 159





	Paint on my Red Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Long time no new fic! I know it seems like I've been quiet, but there's been a lot of work going on behind the scenes... Such as this fic!
> 
> I wrote this fic for the **Four Seasons of Klance zine** a few months back! It's been done for a while, and now I finally get to share it with all of you, my loves!
> 
> You all must know by now how much I love writing college au's. So here's another one for my collage!
> 
> Susan was amazing enough to want to work with me for another zine and did beautiful art for it! Go give it some love!

# Paint on my Red Jacket

Keith loved his major.

He did.

Art was his passion. It was why he was focusing his bachelor’s on it in the first place. Art, art history, or anything involving colour and contrast and shading was right up his alley. And so far, every project of his past three years at Altea University was interesting, fun, and most importantly, a learning experience.

Until this one.

In the past, whenever they worked from live models, it was someone the professor or the T.A. had hired for the studio time for the entire class. Keith loved working from a live model, since every body was different and taught him new things about human anatomy.

But this time, they had to find their own models outside of the studio to recreate on canvas. It also specified that the artwork had to feature nature in it, somehow.

Keith knew he was going to have his model pose outside, and he wanted to do a full background behind them, but what he didn’t know was _who_ to hire.

He’d kept pretty quiet in his class, only speaking when directly spoken to or when a classmate asked to borrow his blender when theirs was temporarily misplaced. So when asked to find someone to model for him, Keith had no idea who to turn to.

So, obviously, he asked his older brother when he and all of their friends met up for their weekly coffee date on Tuesday.

“Hmm, I can’t say I know anyone,” Shiro mused, trying to think of any potential candidates. “Most of the people Adam worked with for photography aren’t in the area anymore, so they wouldn’t be good options for your project.”

Keith groaned and flopped forwards until his forehead bumped the table. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Shiro said sadly, patting his brother on the back. “Wish I could help ya, buddy.”

“Help?” Hunk questioned, scooching into the booth with coffee and treat in hand. “With what?”

“Anything we can do?” Pidge asked, sliding in beside Hunk. “You know I’m not afraid to commit a crime and not get caught.”

“Hopefully nothing _that_ extreme, though,” Lance chuckled nervously, leaning his hip against the table. “Like, we’d do a lot to help ya, but not all of us would go quite that far.”

“No no, nothing like that,” Keith said, levelling Pidge with an admonishing look. “I need a model for my next art project, and I don’t know where to look. I mean, I can’t really afford to pay someone, but I definitely need someone to know what they’re doing, cuz I don’t have the luxury of time to--”

“I can do it,” Lance offered with a casual one-shoulder shrug.

Keith’s head whipped around so fast he feared for his neck. He could only gape openly at his friend for a long moment before blurting out, “What?”

“I can do it,” Lance repeated, a hint of a smile turning his lips upwards. “I have my Instagram page so I know a little about posing. I wouldn’t mind doing it for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, I offered, didn’t I?” Lance said with a dashing smile. “I’m just not used to posing for hours and hours, so we’ll probably have to take more breaks than you’re used to--”

“That’s fine!” Keith blurted out. He felt his cheeks redden but did his damndest not to draw attention to it. “It’s fine,” he reiterated in a normal voice level.

Lance looked a little surprised by the sudden outburst, and his eyes flickered down to Keith’s cheeks but he didn’t comment on it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Keith assured. “A good artist makes sure his model is always as comfortable as possible, and I’d definitely want _you_ to be fine-- uh, good, yeah.”

Shiro bumped his elbow against Keith, and Keith noticed his brother shooting him a knowing look from the corner of his eye. If he had to guess, Pidge and Hunk were sharing similarly knowing looks as well.

Fortunately, Lance either didn’t notice, or just didn’t comment on their friends’ looks. “Okay! How do you want to do this?”

* * *

They worked out some of the details together after the rest of their group left, planning what day would work best for them, what Keith was expecting, and finally, payment.

“Dude, you don’t have to pay me.” Lance tried to insist. “I offered, didn’t I?”

“That’s not the point,” Keith countered. “I’m still asking you to pose around for _at least_ six hours while I sketch and paint you in an outdoor setting. The least I can do is pay you back somehow.”

Lance scoffed softly under his breath, and leaned forward onto the tabletop, levelling Keith with a look. “Dude, we’re both broke college students. How would you even pay me?”

A self-indulgent thought crossed Keith’s mind, but he swiftly pushed it aside for another _safer_ option. “Food? I can make you a nice meal after our session? Not including the lunch I’ll pack for us.”

Lance’s eyes lit up. Food was _always_ considered equal payment to actual money in university, especially from someone who can cook. “Dude, shit, _yes._ I will never turn down food, you know me.”

“I do.”

“Hunk is my best friend for a reason.”

“Dude, I get it. Amazing hugs _and_ legendary cooking skills? Shay is damn lucky to have snagged him before I could.”

“Right?” Lance laughed.

They fell quiet, nothing left to say while they enjoyed the rest of their drinks, but Keith didn’t feel obligated to fill the silence. Not anymore. He knew that Lance understood and appreciated Keith’s silence, and Keith appreciated Lance’s understanding. It had been a barrier between them when they first met, when Lance only ever wanted to fill the silence that Keith built around himself. But once they got to know each other better, and they became better friends, Keith’s crush only got worse and worse.

How could he not fall harder for the beautiful idiot when he got to learn that there was more to the flamboyant and somewhat arrogant persona Lance put on? To learn that he was actually quite sensitive, that the wall he put up was to try to keep him from getting hurt again? Keith wanted nothing more than to protect him from the world, but he couldn’t.

Lance wasn’t his, and he wasn’t Lance’s keeper. He knew better than most that Lance could take care of himself.

“So, what should I wear for the shoot?” Lance asked, filling the silence again.

Keith hummed, trying to think in regards to his project now. “Well, I’m gonna find somewhere to set us up outside,” he explained. “I’m thinking by a tree so you can have something to lean against, and it needs to have a ton of colours so I can really hone in on the autumn theme. Do you have anything that matches that?”

Lance leaned back in his seat, thinking through his clothing options. “Well, I’ll have to look through my closet. Not gonna lie, my first thought for the ‘autumn’ theme is red, and my first thought from _that_ is your red jacket.”

Keith’s mind almost combusts at that.

“Would you be offended if I wore it?” Lance asked. “I promise it wouldn’t ever have to leave your sight, cuz I know how fond you are of that thing, and--”

“Of course not!” Keith exclaimed, probably a bit too loudly. His mind was racing with all the possibilities of seeing Lance _(Lance!!!)_ in his signature red leather jacket. And the mental images were… _Wow._ “I don’t mind at all. I think it’d be perfect, if you don’t have any other ideas from your own wardrobe.”

Lance nodded consideringly. “I’ll take a peek in my closet tonight and let you know. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great.”

* * *

They planned for the session to take place on Saturday, the first day they were both free together. That night, Lance sent him a text with a picture.

Keith opened it, curious as to what the picture could be, to find a selfie of Lance posing in front of a mirror, wearing blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt.

**Hey~**

**what do u think of this?**

Keith found himself unable to breathe for a moment, taking in the image of Lance smiling pleasantly at him through the screen. _Lance_ was sending him selfies! _Selfies!_ Not that Keith was complaining ( _well, maybe a little on behalf of his poor heart_ ), but why was he sending selfies?

**u look good**

He went back to admiring the picture until Lance responded again.

**is this good 4 the shoot?**

_Oh shit,_ Keith thought frantically, _he was asking for my art project shitshitshi--_

**oh uh do u have black jeans? think that would work better with the jacket**

It took a few minutes for Lance to respond, during which time Keith nervously chewed at his lips, hoping he didn’t overstep, but when a photo message dinged on his phone, Keith opened it so fast he almost missed the text message that followed:

**i think i can work with this (;**

When the image finally loaded, he found himself staring at a selfie where Lance had positioned the camera above his head, showing off the dangerous smirk on top of a smooth torso and low riding black jeans. Keith’s cheeks heated so fast he feared for his complexion being permanently tinged red. Goddamn, why was Lance so _hot?_

Another text came through, and Keith exited the picture to find another image waiting for him.

**or should i wear the ripped jeans?**

This picture was a differently angled shot, one that strictly showed his lower half from above. He’d pulled the black shirt he was wearing up _just_ enough to show a sliver of his hipbones and lower abdomen, just enough to fuck with Keith’s heart, and showed off a shiny black belt holding up a pair of tastefully distressed jeans. Keith couldn’t recall seeing Lance wear those before, so he had to wonder if he’d gone out and specifically bought them for this. He’d have to ask him about it later.

God _damn_ did Lance know how to take good pictures.

Another text came through.

**keith? did i kill u buddy?**

Keith snorted despite himself. That sounded more like Lance, the cocky self-assured piece of shit.

**sorry yeah**

**was looking through my other reference pics**

**i think the solid pants would be best**

**its np**

**solid black pants and black t it is!**

**c u 2rrw?**

**yeh see u tomorrow**

Keith dropped his phone face down on the bed, and flopped back onto the mattress with a groan. How did he manage to rope his crush into posing with him for hours on end while he painted his likeness on a canvas out in public? How the hell was this his life?

Oh right. The universe either loves or hates him. Keith can never tell which.

* * *

The day of the session was finally here.

Keith hardly slept a wink the night before, between getting all of his conceptual drawings complete, making sure his jacket smelled fine, and generally building up the nerve to stare at his friend and crush for hours on end.

There was plenty to be nervous about. Or excited? Keith wasn’t sure anymore. The bubbly feeling in his stomach flip-flopped between feeling good, bad and weird so he couldn’t trust it anymore.

Lance was supposed to meet him here at Keith’s apartment at 8am. But, knowing him, he wouldn’t show up until 8:30 at the earliest, giving Keith another half hour to get his shit together, literally and figuratively. So when a knock sounded at his door not even five minutes later, Keith panicked.

He quickly threw a beanie over his bedhead, gathered up his sketches and rushed to the door, throwing it open to find Lance waiting on the other side. Compared to him, Lance looked like a vision, hair styled to perfection, effortless looking makeup and a wrinkle-free outfit. Keith on the other hand looked like he barely survived a tornado, with paint-splattered clothes and surely a crazed look in his eye from trying to get everything ready in a rush.

“Hey,” Lance said slowly, giving Keith a quick look over with concern. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, uh,” Keith mumbled, and waved Lance in so he could finish gathering up his things. “Sorry, just gotta gather up a few more things. Have you eaten?”

Lance nodded, casting a quick glance around at the chaos. “Yeah, had a bagel on my way out the door.” He sat tentatively on the corner of Keith’s bed, watching Keith frantically gather up papers, pencils, charcoals and paints. “Dude, there’s no rush. I’m yours all day.”

“I don’t want to waste your time though,” Keith said, poking some of his smaller paint brushes through the knitting of his beanie. He distantly realized he was wearing the beanie Lance made him last year for Christmas. “Honestly, I thought I had a bit more time. You’re never on time for anything before noon.”

Lance chuckled fondly. “Yeah, that’s fair. I knew how important this was to you, though, so I made sure to get up at 6 so I’d be ready by quarter to.”

Keith spun to face Lance with a look of surprise. “Really? You woke up that early for me?”

“Well, yeah,” Lance said like it was obvious. “This beautiful perfection does _not_ happen on its own, thank you very much. Between straightening my hair, putting on makeup, and ironing my clothes, I just had enough time to eat a bagel on my way out the door.”

“You didn’t have to rush,” Keith mumbled. “I’m not even ready yet.”

“So I see,” Lance said with a hint of mirth in his voice. “What can I grab?”

Keith took a quick scan around the room, taking stock of what he had and what he didn’t have. Most of what remained were his art supplies, but he’d be better off to grab them himself rather than explain what they were to Lance. A glance towards the fridge reminded him of the lunch he packed up last night for the two of them (or was it early this morning?). “There’s a lunch packed for us in the fridge, on the bottom shelf. Mind grabbing it?”

With a spring in his step, Lance made his way over to the fridge. “I wonder what the famous Keith Kogane keeps in his fridge? What does he deem the necessities?” Lance mused loudly, earning a snort from the man in question. When he saw the fridge’s fairly empty contents, he hmphd under his breath. “I’m honestly not sure what I expected, but I was hoping for a little more food than this.”

“I’ve gotta get groceries,” Keith squawked, whirling around to level Lance with a look. “Normally there’s some more in there, like my yogurt, kale and milk.”

Lance gagged, but the sparkle in his eyes told Keith he didn’t truly mean it. “You and your healthy shit,” he grouched. “You’re gonna make me look bad.”

“No, the cheetos and garlic knots you eat do that for you.”

Lance stuck his tongue out at him and pulled the packed lunch out for them. “Yo, are these ham and cheese sandwiches?”

Keith smiled slightly at Lance’s excited tone. “They sure are. I even packed some cucumbers for you.”

“You just get me, babe,” Lance said teasingly, hand dipping into the baggie of cucumbers for a snack.

Hearing Lance call him ‘babe’, even jokingly, caused Keith’s poor heart to flutter. He quickly turned away before Lance could see his face, see the way his words affected him. “You never shut up about how good cucumbers are for you.”

“True,” Lance agreed easily. He rustled around in the kitchen for a minute before pulling Keith’s lunch pail out, tossing the ice pack from the freezer in its depths before putting their packed lunch in on top. The way he made his way around Keith’s kitchen, like this was his kitchen too, made Keith’s heart swell. “Hey, what about those little italian chips-- er, cookie things? You know the ones--”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any of those?”

Keith gestured vaguely towards the sink, knowing Lance would know he means to look under it.

Lance made his way over to the sink and opened the cupboard there, finding the pizzelles in question hidden behind the extra dish soap. Shiro liked them too, a little too much, so Keith had to learn to hide them from his brother, lest he eat the entire carton in one sitting.

“I get how Shiro can eat so many of these in one go,” Lance said casually, dropping a sleeve of them into the lunch box for them later. “They’re so fucking good, man.”

“Trust me, I know,” Keith chuckled gently. “It’s why I always make sure to have a stash of them.”

With a _zip,_ Lance closed the lunch pail and put it on top of Keith’s stash of art supplies. “Do we have everything?”

Keith took a quick glance around the room, scanning various surfaces for any art supplies he knew he’d need. He had his sketchbook, charcoal and pencils tucked away in his bag, paintbrushes shoved haphazardly in his ponytail and beanie. The only thing missing was--

“Hey, we’re gonna need this,” Lance jogged over to Keith’s desk, pulling a signature red jacket off the back of it. “It’s kind of the main focus of the piece.”

“That’s not true,” Keith’s mouth said before his brain caught up with him. “I mean, uh-- Well, you’ll be the focus, obviously. You’re the model for the session.”

“True enough,” Lance said casually, before swinging the jacket over his shoulders and slipping his arms into the sleeves, as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. Well, Keith had _certainly_ imagined it hundreds, if not _thousands_ of times. But actually seeing it?

_Shit._

This was gonna be a long session.

* * *

They made it to the park shortly thereafter, and Keith came with a plan.

Near the center of the park was a large sycamore tree, its canopy filled with beautiful red leaves, surrounded by a small wood with leaves of brown, orange and yellow. There was a picnic bench they could move closer to the tree so he could sketch, and he’d brought a red blanket for Lance to sit on so he’d be more comfortable.

But he didn’t expect the colours to look like _this_ today.

In the early morning light, everything and everyone seemed to glow, especially Lance. Donning Keith’s bright red leather biker’s jacket, Lance looked like a vision straight out of a dream. Keith had to actively swallow past his suddenly dry throat before asking Lance to take the blanket out and get comfortable.

It took him a few minutes to set everything up for himself, between his pencils, paints, bushes and canvas, but once he did, he settled in for the long haul. When he finally glanced up at Lance to see how he was making out, he was surprised to see him already staring back at him.

“You good?” Lance asked, wiggling in his seat atop the blanket until he was comfortable.

“Y-yeah,” Keith fiddled with his canvas and adjusted in his seat as well until he found the right position. “Just getting settled.”

“So, how do you want me?”

It took a few minutes for the two of them to adjust to get the right angles and lighting, but as soon as they did, Keith leaned back a little in shock.

He wasn’t sure how, but Lance seemed to have a halo of golden light around his head, giving him an ethereal glow. The colours of fall only added to his beauty, the red flowers highlighting the bronze of his skin, the brown bark enhancing the pink of his lips and the yellow leaves bringing out the blue in his eyes. And there was still that damn red jacket, sitting right on his shoulders like it belonged there.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Keith certainly wasn’t sure, but he was happy to stare until he figured it out.

“Do we have any idea of a timeline?” Lance asked, dragging Keith out of his own head. “Not that I’m in any rush. I’m honestly just curious.”

Keith hummed consideringly. “Depends on how fast I can get the underlying sketch done.” He lifted up his 2B pencil and let the sharpened tip hover over the canvas. “I’ll let you know when I have a better idea, okay? But I promise I’ll be as quick as possible.”

“Dude, there’s no rush,” Lance said quickly, settling back into position against the tree trunk again. “I don’t want to make you rush and potentially ruin the finished product and your grade. Like I said, I was honestly just curious how long we’d get to spend together today.”

The earnest honesty in Lance’s tone sent Keith’s stomach tumbling through his body. “A good part of the day, at least. Besides, I’ll owe you dinner for this.”

* * *

It took the better part of an hour to get the underlying sketch of Lance and the entire fall background done, but this was the first sketch he thought he’d ever done that he felt satisfied with this early on. “Hey, you can take a break,” Keith announced, wincing a little when his unused voice scratched at his throat a little.

Lance immediately sat up to crack his back with a satisfied groan. “Man, sitting still for that long was starting to hurt.”

Guilt immediately flashed through Keith. “Shit, man, you could’ve sat up and stretched whenever you needed. It’s not a big deal.”

Lance looked a little sheepish as he said, “You seemed to be concentrating pretty hard, so I didn’t want to wreck your flow.”

_Typical Lance,_ Keith thought, _always thinking of others before himself._ “Dude, it’s fine.” He reassured gently. “I’m used to it. When we work from live models in the studio, they automatically take stretching breaks after ten to fifteen minutes, and it’s normally when us artists take a quick break to stretch and grab a drink.”

“You didn’t do that,” Lance chastised lightly.

“No?” Keith spared a quick glance to his water bottle, and saw Lance was right; it was still full. “Damn.”

“It’s okay,” Lance waved him off with a smile and stood up, made his way over to Keith’s side and plopped down on the bench beside him, looking at the design so far. “Oh,” he said a little dejectedly, “I thought it would have been a little clearer to understand.”

Keith couldn’t help but chuckle at Lance’s reaction. “It’s the underlying sketch, it might not make much sense to anyone other than the actual artist,” he said, patting Lance’s knee reassuringly. “It’ll make more sense once I start painting it, I promise.”

“Okay,” Lance pouted, sounding unsure but quickly accepted the fact that he’d have to wait to see more progress. “So what will you do first?”

“I’ll paint some of the base colours, like the background, the tree you’re leaning on and the blanket beneath you, and work my way up to details.” Keith explained. “Then I’ll start building the colours up, adding depth and texture. Things like individual leaves, details of your face and the texture of the bark will be things added in later.”

“Makes sense,” Lance leaned back against the edge of the table, tilting his head back to feel the sun’s warmth on his face. “Can’t wait to see it.”

As Lance reached beneath the table to grab the lunch pail, Keith pulled his bag out from between his legs, unzipping it in the same motion. Inside laid carefully placed paint tubs, ready for him to mix base colours. As he set about getting his colours prepped, Lance dug the baggie of cucumbers out of the depths of the box, pulling them out victoriously. Keith couldn’t help but chuckle at his childish enthusiasm about the littlest of things, but it made Lance _Lance._ He didn’t know how else to describe it. But it was one of the many things Keith loved about him. 

Keith took his time mixing up the colours while Lance munched on a couple of cucumbers beside him. While he mixed, he was mostly free to people watch _(in particular, Lance watch)_ and see the world around him. The park wasn’t too densely populated yet, but he knew as the day dragged on that more people would start rolling in with strollers, bikes and dogs.

Lance shifted beside him, drawing Keith’s attention to him again. The leather on the elbows of his jacket creaked a little against the edge of the table from where Lance was leaning back casually against it. When he let his head tip back, welcoming in the flickering patches of sunlight caressing his face, it exposed the long golden line of his neck. Keith’s fingers twitched with the need to either skim down the length of skin or to draw it _(both in equal measures),_ but he stayed still, simply taking the sight of it in instead.

God, it was times like this where Lance was the most beautiful. Keith would never tire of these little moments, just existing in time with him. He wished this could go on forever, but he also knew that wasn’t practical. Then there wouldn’t be any more moments like this with him.

They took their time eating their lunch, happy to just spend time in each others’ presence. Keith was glad he was able to make one of Lance’s favourites, if only for the smile that stayed the entire time they ate. It made his insides warm that _he_ was the one to put that smile on his face.

“Wanna get back to it?” Lance asked, tilting his head to look over at him as soon as he was done eating.

“Sure,” Keith put the lunchbox back below the table, and picked up his first paintbrush.

“Wait,” Lance stopped Keith with a hand to his arm, before reaching up to his face. “You got a little paint there,” he said with a hint of a smile. His fingers were warm against his face where he brushed the paint away from his cheek. Keith froze, not daring to move in fear of pushing Lance from his space. It felt so good, _so right_ to have him so close.

[[susan's art](https://twitter.com/ForsakeAngel88/status/1335001898487664641)]

With a final swipe, sending tingles down Keith’s spine, Lance retreated, satisfied with the new lack of paint on Keith’s cheek. “There,” he declared, “all better.”

“Thanks,” Keith rasped. His cheek still tingled with the aftermath of Lance’s warmth, and he fought the urge to let his fingers run the same path Lance’s had. 

It would surely taint the feeling if he did, no matter how much he wanted to.

* * *

By the time Keith was finally satisfied with the piece, the sun was halfway down towards the horizon again. Lance stood up to have a good stretch, and Keith realized his back was getting sore from being hunched over. He bent back a bit in an effort to crack his back, and groaned satisfyingly when he did. Lance shuddered and threw a twig his way when he heard the crack, and Keith couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Gross, mister,” Lance grouched, pouting at him.

Keith picked the twig up from where it landed on the table and threw it back at him. “Hey, it’s human nature--”

“It is _not_ \--”

“--and it feels good,” Keith shrugged, raising his hands up in helplessness. “Can’t help it if it feels good. People wouldn’t do it if it didn’t.”

“It’s still gross,” Lance muttered petulantly. With a soft grunt he stood up, making his way to Keith’s side again. “How’s it coming?”

With a bit of reluctance, Keith turned it towards Lance, showing off the finished product. “I’m done, actually.”

On the canvas, painted in painstaking detail was Lance leaning against the big sycamore tree. A background of red, yellow and brown leaves should have made him blend in, but Keith painted it in a way that made his friend stand out. The way his chestnut hair shone in the light flickering in from the leaves, the flawlessness of his skin, and despite the overwhelming amount of red and brown, the blue of Lance’s eyes stood out the most. Lance hadn’t been looking at Keith when he finally depicted the details of his face, so he was staring off at something to Keith’s left, but there was still a depth in his gaze that he’d never been able to depict before.

Keith never had trouble showing off his art before. It showcased his talent and his pride to others, and he was always proud of his final result. But he’d never felt as exposed as he did with this piece. He’d painted all of his feelings onto the canvas, with each brushstroke on Lance’s person. It was in the attention he’d paid to Lance’s nose, getting the slight curvature of it, and in the gentle swoop of his cupid’s bow. It was in the way he blended colours to get the exact shade of Lance’s skin, and how it looked contrasted to his own red jacket. And it was especially prevalent in the detail he’d put into Lance’s gaze.

It left him feeling raw and exposed, showing this artwork to his friend, his crush _(if he could even call it something as simple as a ‘crush’ when it felt like Lance consumed him completely)._ But show him he did, because he also needed Lance to see.

Needed Lance to see how he saw him.

“Woah,” Lance murmured incredulously, and cautiously made his way forward as if getting closer would change the final result. “That’s-- wow. Is that what I looked like, sitting there?”

Keith nodded, not trusting his dry throat to cooperate.

“I can’t believe I looked that good,” Lance laughed self-consciously. Keith hated hearing him say things like that. “But I know you’d never lie to me, so it must be true,” Lance continued.

“You know I wouldn’t,” Keith said as sincerely as he could. “This is how I see you.”

Lance sat down on the bench next to him with a _thunk,_ face slightly pinched like he did when he was thinking hard about something. Just as Keith was about to ask him _what,_ Lance turned to him and said, “Please tell me if I’ve got the wrong idea, okay?”

Then he leaned in, slow enough that Keith had plenty of time to realize what was happening, before their lips met in a brief and chaste kiss.

Keith gasped when Lance’s lips met his, electric shockwaves sparking throughout his system, but didn’t dare back away. He leaned into the kiss, even going so far as to cupping the back of Lance’s neck with a paint covered hand. His chest felt like a Fourth of July celebration, fireworks and firecrackers and sparklers going off and lighting up his entire being, all from a simple touch from this man.

They parted only far enough to breathe, noses brushing as they breathed in each other’s air. Once their eyes met, they both couldn’t help but laugh a little, elated that _that_ just happened.

“Oh good, I didn’t guess wrong,” Lance whispered giddily.

“No,” Keith tilted his head forwards until their foreheads pressed together, “you didn’t.”

Lance laughed softly, breath fanning against Keith’s lips. Keith swiftly decided it was his favourite sensation in the world. “I had no idea you felt the same way I did,” Lance said incredulously, reaching out and grabbing Keith’s hand between both of his.

“Me neither, or we would have been doing this a lot sooner,” Keith said cheekily, and leaned forward to steal a swift kiss.

Lance smiled so wide that Keith couldn’t help but lean in again, wanting to feel that smile against his own lips. But he quickly restrained himself, pulling back with a fair bit of effort. “We should get outta here,” he let his hand fall from the back of Lance’s neck to his own lap. “I still owe you a home-cooked dinner.”

“With what food?” Lance asked slyly. “You have, like, no food in your fridge.”

_Shit._ “Right,” Keith said bashfully. “Uh, how about I take you out to dinner instead?”

“Like, a date?”

Keith smiled, the word _‘date’_ sending a rush through him. “Yeah, like a date.”

Lance stood up, and used his grip on Keith’s hand to pull him up too. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

**Author's Note:**

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